Dinner in Paris
by HeadGirl07
Summary: Ron is being mopey on the trip to Paris and nobody knows why except Harry. What could cheer him up?


"Come now, Ron! We're in Paris!" Ron was a bit mopey, sitting at the small table next to them. Harry thought he knew what was wrong with him but Ginny didn't, nor the rest of the family.

"Think of the LADIES, Ron!" said George. "Surrounded by pretty girls? You might even get lucky." Ron appeared to get sadder at this statement. "Bah! You've changed, seriously." George walked back to the hotel room.

Ginny just looked at Ron, worried. Mrs. Weasley called everyone to dinner. All of the Weasley brothers, Fleur, and her sister were there. They were chatting and happy to be in France. All but Ron. Percy started the conversation.

"Now, Ron, I think I can speak for us all when I say you've certainly changed." There was a round of nodding.

"Its not a slight change either," commented Mrs. Weasley, "Very noticeable. We're all worried. You're not one to space out that often."

"What's wrong Ron?" asked Ginny. She seemed genuinely concerned.

"You know what else is odd," George started up, "ever since we came back from Hogwarts you've changed. You're more…" George scrunched up his face like a prune. "Responsible. And… Serious. It seems like most of the time you actually think about what you're going to say."

Percy looked up from his dinner, "He's right for once."

"That doesn't change you being a prat."

"Or you a git."

"Well, its good to know that some things haven't changed," sighed Mr. Weasley. "Look Ron, if there's something you want to tell us or need help with…"

"Okay. Thanks Dad." His response showed nothing had altered his mood. The whole table seemed to quiet down until Fleur bounded in.

"Good news!" she said. "My parents zed we are invited to a party tomorrow night. A formal one with dancing and everything. Eet will be good fun I theenk. Will take your mind off other things…" She looked at Ron.

"Yes it will!" replied Ginny. Ron grunted in response. Everyone finished their dinner and headed upstairs to go to sleep.

The next day was spent touring France, the Eiffel Tower and so forth. They found Fleur's parents who joined them and offered to buy new dresses and suits for everyone. "Zair are muggles zair," said Mr. Delacour, "Zey just don't know magic folk are zair with them. We can not come in and surprise zem with dress robes." Ron sighed in relief; he didn't have to wear that horrible lacy one. Once they all got some decent muggle formal wear,(Mr. Weasley was quite excited with his.) they went back home, waiting until it was time for the party.

Once all dressed, they piled in ordinary muggle cars, not magically enchanted ones, and drove off to the party. The building the gathering took place in was magnificent, though you wouldn't know that from the outside. On the inside was a "winter in summer" theme going on so the place was covered in beautifully bright white lights and silver snowflakes. It was much cooler inside than the muggy outdoors.

Charlie spotted the refreshments first. George and him made a beeline for them. Ron looked not as mopey but still obviously sad.

"Ron, we're at a party. You can't be sad forever," said Ginny. She then whispered to Harry, "He didn't even attempt to head for the refreshments!"

"Leave him to me," he whispered back, and he took Ron over to one side of the hall.

"Is it her?" he asked.

Ron almost shook his head thinking, _How the heck does he know what I'm thinking about? _when he remembered it was his best friend he was talking to. He nodded.

"Ron, do you think she would want you to be sad without her? It hasn't even been a month. You'll see her again soon. If she saw how gloomy you were, she would punch you harder than she did in the tent!" Ron thought this over, knowing Harry was right, and got considerably brighter afterwards. Or at least Ron did a horrific job pretending to be happier… which was better than nothing at all…

"Oi! Ron, Harry, get over here!" George called them over. The family appeared to be surrounding someone. Harry let out an odd cough that sounded like _birds _but led Ron over to the gathering.

"Everyone!" said Mr. Delacour brightly, "I would like you all to meet my friend. He ees the one who invited us to zee party." There was muttering. The man being introduced was a buff man with brown, straight hair. He was intimidating and gave the appearance that to mess with him would not leave you unscarred. Obviously, this guy should not be toyed with. Mr. Delacour continued, "He ees a good friend of mine who I 'ave had zee pleasure to work with. He works in zee clothing business, dresses to be exact." At this Mr. Delacour paused, as if to let this information sink in. "He ees a proud tailor who not only mends clothing but is also gifted in zee making of traditional French style dresses. He does it all by 'and, sewing, embroidering…." Voices began to rise.

"Ahem." This is the first thing the stranger said and everyone quieted.

"Ah," replied Mr. Delacour, "Excuse me, I believe 'e ees capable of introducing 'imself. Pardon me."

The guest was about to speak but he stopped suddenly, turning his gaze. His eyes fell on Ron and he said gruffly, "Would you 'appen to be Ronald Weasley?"

At first at a loss for words, Ginny kicked him and he eventually said, "Um, yes sir." He felt like pissing in his pants.

"You know our son?" asked Mr. Weasley suspiciously.

"I 'ave 'eard of him," the stranger said. "And you are Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, hees parents?"

"Yes, sir," responded Mrs. Weasley. She was about to say more when he turned to Harry next.

"And you are 'Arry Potter." This was clearly a statement.

"Yes sir," Harry responded. "Excuse me but, how do you know our names before we've even met you?"

"I 'ave 'eard of some of ze amazing feats, triumphs, and struggles of most of you…." He said this, looking at all of them. His stare made Harry buckle.

"How? Who told you?" asked Mr. Weasley, an edge developing in his voice.

"Do not worry," said the man, "I will not 'arm you. I am a friend. My daughter ees ze one who told me."

"Really?" asked Mr. Delacour. He was puzzled and intrigued, conspicuously trying to hide it. "But ---"

"She also participated in ze war."

"Wait, then ---"

"I am a muggle, my daughter a witch." This confused everyone. If Mr. Delacour did not know this about his friend, it was highly doubtful that he knew him well at all. A distraction in the form of a young, French girl came over to join the group. She had blonde hair and wore glasses the color of an eggplant, which made her bright, eager, amber eyes stand out.

"Excuse me." She addressed this statement to Ron. "Might you be… Ronald Weasley?"

"The whole world seems to know you today, Ron," commented George, though he was eyeing the girl.

"Yes, I am. I must ask, how do you know my name?"

"I over'eard," she said dismissively. "Anyway, I was watching you from zee other side of ze room," at this she blushed, "looking quite sad and I was going to ask you to dance."

"I'll dance with you, mademoiselle," George jumped in, making a futile attempt to snatch her away from Ron.

"Um… No thank you," she said. George was crestfallen but the girl continued, "Anyway, I was going to ask you to dance but I was wondering if you would do me a favor instead."

"What kind of favor?"

"Do you see that girl over zair?" She pointed in a direction. "She ees my friend. She ees very nice but tends to get quite bored at parties like zis. I was wondering if you would dance with 'er."

Charlie and George dropped their jaws. The term "girl" was an understatement. The person she pointed to was obviously a lady. The French girl's friend had a glowing, bright red dress, that fit her decent figure. The brunette, her hair in a high ponytail, did appear quite bored, her head stuck in a book.

"Um… No thank you," said Ron.

"WHAT?!?!" yelled George, some people turning around to look at him, "You're denser than I thought! You're gonna miss out on this chance?" He straightened up. "I'll dance with her mademoiselle, take no notice of my cowardly brother." He was about to stride over when Charlie held him back.

"No," he said, "Leave her to Ron."

"Ron," whispered Harry, "Don't let her hold you back. That would be stupid."

Ron hesitated, then finally agreed to her favor. "Thank you," she said. Ron started to walk over to the girl's friend.

He stopped a foot short of the lady. Not aware if she spoke in English, Ron said, "Bonjour."

The lady showed no reaction. A little more confidently, Ron said, "Bonjour."

This time she reacted. After a few seconds, when Ron was about to leave, tail between his legs, she said, "Bonsoir," without bothering to look up.

Ron, sensing he said something wrong, struggled to come up with an appropriate response. Grasping for an answer, he recalled a certain phrase that Bill sometimes said to Fleur, in which Fleur in return would smile at him and peck him on the cheek. He said this to the lady, hoping it would not provoke her.

The lady waited a few seconds again and said, "Merci beaucoup, monsieur."

Ron, embarrassed that he had no idea what he said, replied in English, "I'm so sorry, I don't speak French…"

The lady was about to look up at him until he said this, to which she responded in quick, incoherent French. She then repeated herself, this time in English, "You do not speak French? Do you even know what you 'ave zed?" She looked right at him, her eyes widened for a split second, then said, "Well?"

Ron, not noticing her reaction, let out a very bashful, "No."

The lady considered him. She looked him up and down and asked, "Would you like to know?"

Surprised that she hadn't left him, he said, "Yes please. If that wouldn't be too much trouble."

It seemed that the lady was restraining herself from rolling her eyes. She looked at him again and said, "You just zed, 'You are stunning.'" She gave him a smile, which made Ron nostalgic for some reason. There was a brief pause and then the lady asked, "Were you going to ask me something?"

"Oh, yes," Ron said, recalling the favor. Untactfully, he told her that her friend said she was bored and asked him to dance with her.

Pause. "So you agreed?"

"Um, yes," he said nervously.

"Do YOU want to dance with me?" This question caught him off guard. Once he thought about it, he realized he did want to dance with her and answered yes.

Hesitantly, she offered her hand. Ron took it and they both went out to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, George began to ask the blonde bespectacled girl, whose name they found out was Emily, about her friend.

"She ees my teacher. She instructs our class on how to speak Eenglish but teaches both Eenglish and French."

A thought occurred to Harry. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"How old is she?" asked Ginny.

"I do not know. Seventeen, maybe eighteen?"

Harry continued, "How old are the students?"

Emily paused, thinking. "I theenk the ages are from... anywhere as young as eleven to… twenty-five."

"The students are older than the teacher?" asked George.

"Sometimes, yes. She teaches well either way. She ees fluent in both languages." The friends had a moment of admiration.

"Her mother ees from Britain and her father ees from France. Though born in Britain, she stayed for awhile, came to France for a few years, zen went back to live in Britain. When she was little, living een France, she used to help at ze daycare even though she was still a kid herself."

Mrs. Weasley came over to the group. "Why don't we invite her over?"

As Ron and the lady were dancing, he noticed that she seemed to be getting closer. He also recognized an odd smell that hung about her. He stopped and said, "I'm sorry but I'm not comfortable... with you like that." The lady looked at him awkwardly but she acknowledged his wishes.

She asked why he was uncomfortable. When Ron did not respond she lapsed in silence. Then, as time went on, she eventually was able to make him laugh. The lady said, "I noticed zat as we were dancing that you were very sad. Why?" Ron, finally coming to trust her, answered.

"Well...a good friend…she is not here…"

"A… girlfriend?" Ron stopped, then nodded.

"Zat ees why you were uncomfortable." He nodded again. "You are a very considerate man." She began to whisper, "I theenk you are what ze English refer to as…..a great catch?"

Ron blushed. "Whoever your friend is, she ees a lucky lady."

"Ron!" yelled Mrs. Weasley as the song was coming to a close, "Bring your friend over! We want to get to know her!" Ron brought her over, embarrassed by his mother, thinking how bold she was. _Is she drunk? _he thought.

As Harry saw them approach, the hair on the back of his neck prickled. For some reason, he found the way the lady's hair was done high and her brown eyes memorable, but could not place why.

"What is your name?" Mrs. Weasley looked at both of them and Ron turned red.

"You didn't even bother to ask her name?" Ginny shook her head, ashamed that she underestimated her brother's stupidity.

"Good evening mademoiselle," said Emily, curtsying.

"Now, you don't 'ave to go through all zat," said the lady, her turn to blush.

"So, um, what is your name?" asked Ron. About to answer, she stopped when she saw Mr. Delacour's friend, who walked over to them with a long stride, somewhat hiding behind George before he made himself appear. The lady looked, stared, turned slightly off color, then promptly turned a deep magenta.

"Well?" he said. "Are you going to introduce me?"

She stood stock-still. "Well?" he repeated.

The lady looked at Ron and his parents, back and forth, as if deciding who she should introduce first. She looked at everyone when she said the following words but mainly she looked at Ron.

The lady spoke extremely clearly, in flawless English, "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron… this is my father..." Her voice, no longer a trace of French in it, was distinctly British…and distinctly familiar… "…Mr. Granger."

Silence.

"Well Mr. Granger," brightened Mr. Weasley, "It is a pleasure to meet you!" He pumped Mr. Granger's hand up and down several times. Mrs. Weasley's eyes were locked on Ron and Hermione.

"Hermione?" asked Ron. After a minute of watching her, bluntly he said, "You're in France!"

She smiled. "Yes Ron, last time I checked I was in Paris," she answered, in her knowing way.

"What are you doing here?" asked Harry, remembering Hermione's brown eyes and the way she wore a bun at the Yule Ball, his memory clicking into place.

"Well ---"

"Is that the perfume I got you for Christmas?" Ron sniffed her. "You kept that? That was a long time ago."

"I did say it was unusual. Did you think I was going to throw it away?" At the same moment, Ron and Harry looked at each other, remembering how that same Christmas they also threw Hermione's homework planners in the fire.

"Anyway, I guess you could say I'm here as punishment."

"Punishment?" "For sending 'er parents to Australia," said Mr. Granger. Though he stated this menacingly, there was a twinkle in his eye.

"Australia?" asked Emily, who remained forgotten.

"It's a long story." Hermione then turned to Emily and said playfully, "So, you thought I looked bored and decided to send any RANDOM man to dance with me?" Emily turned ruby.

"You did describe 'im to us...," she said in shy, small voice. Ron looked confused as well as Harry and the rest of them.

"Another long story," sighed Hermione. "Just know that they made me squeal some details about my boyfriend…"

"Boyfriend?" said Ron's siblings, all in various pitches and tones.

"So you knew who I was?" asked Ron, a beginning of a glare emerging.

"You were right mademoiselle...'e is very cute." Ron stopped glaring.

"Your son's name 'as been tossed about lately in our 'ousehold." Everyone looked at Mr. Granger. "The funny thing ees, I remember when she came 'ome from 'ogwarts at Christmas that first year. When I asked her about any friends she 'as made, she mentioned a funny but sometimes annoying boy named Ron Weasley." Harry smiled. "How long are you staying in France?"

Mrs. Weasley answered, "About another month."

"Well, I'll give you our address and you can visit anytime you like."

"Here's ours," said Mr. Weasley, extending his hand to give him a paper with the hotel address and number on it, "The fellytone number is on there."

"It's telephone, Dad."

"I must apologize for acting so suspicious. I actually invited Mr. Delacour and you over when I 'eard Hermione mention Fleur's last name. I recognized zem as one of my clients."

"So you knew they were here all along?" Hermione had an astonished, questioning look about her.

"I also 'ad to show you zat I can still outsmart you and zat you should not take your old father for granted." He winked. He turned to Ron and said, "You are a very decent young man, as far as I can tell. I would like to get to know you better over dinner if you all do not mind coming."

"But our apartment is too ---" Hermione stuttered.

"I got it sorted out, Hermione. We are eating at another restaurant."

"Of course we don't mind coming to dinner," said Mrs. Weasley, "Thank you so much. I can't wait to get to know you better as well." Ron cringed.

"So that's why you were all mopey? over Hermione?"

"George…shut up."

"Yes, Won-Won? All because of Hermione?"

"Spare me, Ginny. I'm tired."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll leave you with Percy in the car."

"Hey!"

"Ron, that was very rude."

"She started it!"

"Typical. Just because you're tired does not mean you have to become immature. We can't drive to the restaurant in peace?"

"You know, when you weren't here, it seemed like you rubbed off on him. He didn't seem immature then."

"Really? Are you sure? You weren't dreaming or anything?"

"Are you trying to say something about me, Hermione?"

"Well, it is your fault we became friends at all…you didn't even apologize!"

" Wait, what? Apologize for what?"

"For making me cry! For making me hide in the restroom and be almost killed by a troll!"

"When were you almost killed by a troll?"

"You weren't in school yet."

"What do you mean? I helped save you didn't I? Are you still going to hold that against me?"

"With the LEVITATION CHARM **I** was trying to help you with!! This is the thanks I get?"

"Well, excuse me Miss I-Can-Speak-French-And-I'm-Not-Going-To-Tell-My-Friends!"

"You never asked! How was I supposed to tell you if you didn't ask?"

"So you could understand Fleur this whole time? It would have been nice if someone translated!"

"Nothing she said was important enough to start translating! Why are you so worked up about that?"

"This is just like the time turner! You didn't tell us about THAT!"

" I TOLD you I promised Professor McGonagall I wouldn't say anything about that!"

"But we were your FRIENDS!" _Just like old times, _thought Harry, _Just like old times…_


End file.
